


24 terrible, horrible, no good very bad days

by Glowsquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Nudity, Rated For Violence, Slavery, Starvation, Swearing, Whump, chained to a bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:38:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowsquid/pseuds/Glowsquid
Summary: My bad things happen bingo collection!Send me requests on mytumblr





	1. Keith - Forcibly Stripped

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starcrossed_writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrossed_writer/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is for my lovely friend purringkeith. I hope the characterizations are okay. I didn't originally intend for this to be a keith&lance friendship fic but apparently I cannot be stopped. I stan Keith's potty mouth.

The first thing Keith was aware of was motion. He was moving - or rather, being moved - rather briskly, his body thumping and jolting as he went. His body felt heavy and limp. Was someone carrying him? That must be it. 

Slowly, his hearing kicked back in. He heard the panting and occasional grunts coming from whoever was carrying him. Wait, who was carrying him? He cast his memory back, searching for an explanation to this mess, but it was slow going, whatever had happened to him had dulled his brain enough to make it hard to think. This person didn’t sound like any of the other Paladins or the Alteans, nor any of the Blades he knew for that matter. Wait, had he been on a mission? Likely, he’d been doing a lot of those lately. That made sense the more he remembered. He was staking out the streets of an alien city, scouting ahead for traps or an ambush. He could hear the others chattering through the comm channels. And then…

Hold up.

Where the hell was he now?

The panic broke the dam blocking his memories and Keith thrashed, or tried to, because his muscles were still too sluggish and it was really hard to move and son of a bitch, that taser sure packed a punch. 

He opened his eyes, trying to get a grasp on where he was, but all he saw rough, grey fabric stretched over a broad back. Yes, he was definitely being carried by someone much bigger than even. Bigger than Hunk, even. He was draped upside down over their shoulder, head bouncing up and down on the back of his kidnapper. 

Or his kidnapper’s henchman. He remembered the pain of the electrical current, the way his muscles spasmed before he lost conciousness, but he hadn’t seen who had actually done it. Which reminded him. He still didn’t know where he was, where he was going, or what would happen to him once he got there. He needed to try to escape. As far as he knew, his captor didn’t know he was awake. He had the element of surprise. 

He moved suddenly, and with as much power as his body could give him, jerking his back up as he swung an arm to grab for his bayard while kicking his legs into the goon’s stomach, but he only felt a beefy arm tighten around his waist in retaliation. Whoever was carrying him grunted. 

“Don’t try to fight. Stay still.” 

Not to be deterred, Keith tried again, but the firm grip around him effectively stopped him from reaching his bayard or wriggling free, so he resigned himself to his fate for the time being. Maybe he could learn something from this guy. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me anyway, what do you want?” 

He grunted again in response. “Not my business to say. Master will tell you soon,” was all he revealed. 

Keith sighed in frustration. Wait. His helmet! He was still wearing it, maybe he could get in touch with the others. 

“Shiro, are you there?” He tried to hide the growing desperation in his voice, but Keith could hear it anyway. “Allura? Hunk? Anyone? I’ve been compromised, come in!” All he heard was a dull whine in the earpiece. Dammit! Either his helmet was busted or they were doing something to jam the signal. 

He let out a growl of frustration just as his ride stopped walking completely. Keith heard the sound of a code being entered into a keypad (6 digits, he noted), and a door swishing open. 

He couldn’t see much because he was still hanging with his face towards whoever was carrying him, but he felt the lighting shift from the dimness of the hallway to a soft, cheerful glow. Well, that was better than a dark cell the harsh lighting of some sort of examination (read, torture) chamber. Gently, he was lowered to the floor, and he found that for a moment he wasn’t being held on to at all. 

He seized the opprotunity and with a wild yell, he dove towards the door, only to realize the alien was standing between him and his escape route. He ducked his body forward at the last seconds, aiming underneath his arm to slide past. He was in the clear! Lightning fast, he lunged for the exit. 

His captor, on the other hand, was even faster. With startling speed for his size he snatched Keith’s wrist in his own meaty hand and tugged him backwards sharply, causing Keith to stumble back and land hard on his ass. Dazed and a little bit humiliated, all he could do was sit there as a tight metal cuff snapped around his wrist. 

Fuck. Shit, fuck, son of a bitch cunt basta-

His inner silent expletives were interrupted by the door sliding open. 

The alien who was waddling into the room was well-dressed; his body was covered in bright orange and yellow and blue scales like a bird of paradise, and he walked with the attitude of someone who was used to getting what they want. Someone who was used to being obeyed. 

This effect was offset slightly by the fact that he was about 3 feet tall. 

“Good, good,” he jabbered. His voice was shrill and abrasive, as if a cockatiel had smoked a pack a day for 20 years. “Well done, Bagshi. I will make sure this catch goes on your record.”

“Thank you, master,” rumbled his captor, Bagshi.

“Now then. Let’s look at what we have here. Remove his helmet, Bagshi.” Before he could protest, his helmet was yanked off his head from behind. A clawed hand grabbed at Keith’s jaw as the master stared hard at Keith’s face, scrutinizing every detail. He tried to jerk away, but the sharp nails only dug into his flesh harder. “Looks fairly young, that’s good.” His jaw was pushed open. The scaly alien scoffed. “Ha! Useless teeth, so blunt. Tell me, is that normal for your species?”

Keith found his jaw had been released, and realized he was expected to answer. 

“Um, yes?”

“Pathetic. Oh well, makes them less of a trouble I suppose."

A clawed hand was run through his hair. “Quite thick, very attractive. It could prove to be rather unhygenic though, it might have to be shaved. A pity. Of course, that will depend on who will want to buy it.”

Shaved? Buy it? What on earth was going on? 

The master continued to study him. “Bagshi, strip it.”

What???

He barely had time to process what had just been said when Bagshi's hands were on him once again, finding the catches that released the chest plate and shoulder armor. 

“No, hey! Hey! What are you doing?”

His cries fell on deaf ears, however, as the rest of his plate armor was removed. He thrashed and bucked, but Bagshi's strength was enormous. He couldn't shake him off! 

“The plate armor will fetch a good price, Bagshi, but don't bother with the undersuit. Tear it off, it doesn't matter”

Fucking what?!

Reality set in when he heard the flick of a blade from behind him and felt a hand lift his suit off the back of his neck. 

“No! No, no, nononono-”

The sound his suit made as it split clean down his back wasn't loud, but it was still one of the worst sounds Keith had ever heard. 

“Stop it, stop it!”

Oblivious to Keith's pleas, the rest of his suit was torn from his body as if he was a birthday gift being unwrapped. He could feel his face heating up. He hated undressing in front of anyone else. Changing in communal locker rooms was traumatizing enough, but this? Having his clothes completely ripped off of him without even a warning was almost unbearable. 

All he could do was sit there, wrist still secured by the cuff, and shiver as the cold air prickled gooseflesh on his skin. By now he was wearing nothing but his briefs. 

Until those were torn off him too and he wanted to fucking cry. 

All he could do was curl forward and cup his free hand over his groin to try to cover himself from the prying eyes of his captors. 

Until that last shred of dignity was ripped from him as well as his second hand was hauled upward and snapped into its own cuff and with a rattle of chains and a mechanical whir both hands were pulled toward the ceiling. They stretched so far his body couldn't help but follow.

This time he couldn't help the tears that escaped from his eyes. He squeezed them shut. It was a small relief that he wasn't pulled completely off his feet. There was enough slack in the chain that he was able to get his feet under him and keep his weight off his arms. 

“Alright,” said the master, babbling to himself, “let's see what we have here. Probably male by the looks of it. Looks quite strong, not bad looking either.” he began running his claws over Keith's skin, pinching and poking and squeezing as he went as if testing to make sure his skin worked right. Keith could barely tolerate being touched on most days, but like this? When he was so exposed? He wanted to curl up and hide for the next several years. 

Meanwhile, the master kept scrutinizing every inch of his body. “Yes, yes, quite versatile. Well-suited for labor with the looks of an escort, this one will fetch a fine price.” 

Wait, labor? Escort? Price? 

Oh fuck.

These were slavers. They were going to sell him.

Fuck. That. 

He started to thrash and lurch, but there wasn't much he could do. The chains were too thick to break, he had nothing to pick the lock with. Even if he was able to knock out Bagshi or the master from where he was he would still be stuck. There was nothing to do but wait for an opportunity. 

“Damn you, keep still. You're going to hurt your wrists,” the master said to him. “You're not going to get away, if you continue to resist I will have no choice but to punish you.” 

Maybe he had a point. It pained him to stop fighting, but it might be better to save his energy for an actual opportunity. 

“Master?” Bagshi's voice sounded from behind him again. “Las Tronda sent a message.” 

The master remained preoccupied with systematically violating Keith's privacy, but replied, “What did she want, Bagshi?”

“She wanted to notify you that her grace has arrived and is awaiting an escort to view the merchandise.”

That got the master's attention. “She’s here? Now? Damn. She's early. Oh well, we shall have to make do. Bagshi, collect its armor and add it to the vault, dispose of is other garments. I will go to meet Las Tronda, meet us back here to assist me.” 

“Yes, master,” Bagshi rumbled, and with that the master left. A moment later, Bagshi followed him, taking Keith's armor and clothing and protection with him. 

The door clicked locked behind him. 

There was a camera mounted on the ceiling, and Keith could make out the lens pointed right at him. 

Someone was probably watching him right now. When he was completely nude. 

It was beyond humiliating

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere where he could have privacy and space and a pair of goddamn pants and where his body wasn't completely on display for everyone to see. 

It was hard to keep track of time in his cell, but he was brought back to awareness by a scraping noise just outside his door. He strained his ears to make out what it was, but to no avail. 

It couldn't be the master and whoever he was bringing to - he shuddered - examine the merchandise. They would simply walk in the door. Was there a small animal outside? 

Suddenly, the door opened with a woosh, and Lance was charging in, sweeping the room with his eyes, blaster rifle tucked securely against this shoulder with all the cool professionalism and efficiency of a Navy SEAL. 

Until he caught sight of Keith and his mouth dropped open. Keith could feel Lance's shock as his wide eyes took in Keith's naked state.

He didn't know which was worse: being looked at naked by his kidnappers who were going to sell him into slavery or being caught naked by Lance McLain. 

Keith wanted to groan in embarrassment and frustration. Lance teased him enough already, there was no way he was going to let Keith live this down. 

To his credit, though, Lance only gawked for a moment before he remembered himself, lowering his rifle.

“Keith! Jesus Chri- Pidge! Don't come in!” 

“Huh?”

“I said don't come-”

But it was too late. Pidge came around the corner to investigate the noise.

“Did you find him? Wha- Keith! Why the hell are you naked?”

Keith wanted the floor to swallow him whole. 

It must have showed, because next Lance was nudging Pidge and saying “Um, Pidge? Maybe you should stand guard outside or something? Give him some privacy?” 

She looked back into Keith's face and a flush creeped up her neck. Hastily, she spun around, facing the door and away from Keith. 

“I'm- um, yeah. Sorry, I didn't think- I mean I forgot… um, yeah. Sorry. I'm gonna just…”

She made a few hand gestures that might have been to indicate going outside before bolting out the door. 

That left him and Lance.

He really, _really_ wished he had clothes. 

But Lance was already moving.

“We were tracking you through your armor - we found it first - we didn't see your undersuit anywhere, I guess we thought it was still on you.” He reached up and began fiddling with Keith's cuffs. “I don't know how I'm gonna get these off, but I can shoot through the chain, you good with that?”

“Get it over with,” he replied through clenched teeth.

There was a click and a blast of energy and his arms were falling to his sides again. He shook them out a bit to get the blood back in them.

He wanted to thank Lance, but he didn't think he could look him in the eyes right now.

“Yeah, don't worry about it. You wanna get out of here?” 

“Yes,” Keith growled, “can we get out of here already?”

Lance shifted his blaster back to his earlier grip. His mouth twisted down slightly, but he nodded. 

“Okay, let's go then.”

Then came the most tormenting 5-minute walk in Keith's entire existence. He was torn. Did he cover his crotch with his hands to protect what was left of his privacy? But that felt so awkward. Did he just walk normally for convenience and the ruse of normalcy? After all, it wasn't as if there was any part of him they hadn't already seen. 

But wandering completely naked behind his two friends through a facility in which he had been going to be sold as a slave was uncomfortable and humiliating and covering himself made him feel a little safer, even if it was only an illusion. 

He wasn't too distracted to notice the unconscious bodies of the master and another richly-dressed alien -presumably whoever it was who was coming to buy him- undoubtedly knocked out by Pidge's bayard. 

“Hunk and Shiro are freeing the rest of the prisoners,” Lance explained. “They're in the other side of the facility. They'll catch up when they're done,” 

Keith didn't reply.

Before long, they were approaching the Green Lion and Pidge sprinted ahead. 

As soon as he and Lance were inside, he tucked himself down in a corner of the cargo hold, curling his legs in protectively and letting his bangs cover his face. 

The cold, metal floor sapped the heat from his skin and made him shiver, and he wished he could wrap his arms around himself for warmth but that would mean taking his hands away from his groin as then he'd be completely naked again and that couldn't happen. He knew it was pointless, he knew it, the damage had been done but dammit! He wanted this last bit of dignity, of control. He clung to it. 

The sound of approaching footsteps made it past his mental anguish but he didn't look up. 

It may have been childish, but he didn't want to look any member of his team in the face right now.

“Hey.”

It was Lance. Of course, Pidge was still flying. 

“You look kinda cold, I brought you a blanket. You, uh, you seem like you could use it.”

Keith chanced a glance up, peering through his bangs. 

Sure enough, Lance was holding out one of Green's emergency blankets, eyes averted out of courtesy. 

It was a small gesture of kindness, but Keith would take it. 

He reached up and took the blanket from Lance, and the other paladin turned his back on Keith to allow him some long-awaited privacy. 

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and pulled it closed across his front. It helped a bit with the cold and the dysphoria, and once he was feeling less mortified he had time to feel a little bit bad about snapping at Lance. 

After all, this hadn't been Lance's fault. Hell, Lance had been the one to rescue him. 

He stood carefully, making sure the blanket was completely wrapped around him and made his way next to Lance.

He didn't want to talk to Lance. He didn't want to talk to anyone or look at anyone for a very long time. But he owed Lance this much. 

“Thank you for getting me out of there.” 

Lance glanced at him and smiled.

“Any time, man. Any time.”


	2. Hunk - Chained to a Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anon. This one's short, sorry.

It had to have been a few hours since the guard left but time he honest, Hunk had no way of telling. For all he knew, it could have only been a few minutes. Or days. 

He tried again at the handcuffs.

Of course they were no different than before. Time would change nothing about his situation and he hadn't expected it to. 

There was still no obvious lock or catch mechanism. Just smooth, grey metal secured with a tight rope of purple energy. He pulled at them until the metal of the cot creaked and groaned but it wasn't enough to break them away. 

So that left him chained to a shabby prison cot which in turn was bolted to the floor.

He wondered if anyone was going to check on him. Some food and water would be nice, even though he knew it would probably be shit. He'd seen plenty of movies. Maybe the water would be bad or the food would be crawling with bugs. Maybe they would kick it over before he could get a bite, or make him grovel for it. He shuddered. None of those options sounded good. 

Assuming anyone would think to feed him at all. 

 

As hard as it was to keep track if time down here, he had to assume it had been at least a day since he had been locked in. They had left him one (1) meal. 

It was hard to see, but from the faint shape making its way through the darkness it looked like standard goop. No sign of bugs. There was a covered cup he could only assume contained water. 

But he could only guess.

The food waited in the opposite side of the room, just out if his reach. 

It was infuriating. 

He strained again at the cuffs holding him down, tried for the upteenth time to manipulate whatever latch was keeping him tied. Laid down with his belly pressed against the disgusting floor to r e a c h as far as he could, but no luck.

His stomach rumbled. He sternly told it to be quiet. 

 

He tried to distract himself from the hunger by sleeping. 

The cot was lumpy and the sheets itched and probably hadn't been cleaned in a while, but to be honest, Hunk had slept in more uncomfortable scenarios at sleepovers. He could handle this, getting some sleep would help. Even if to block out the painful cramping in his stomach. 

Except it was almost impossible to sleep. 

His wrist was chained to the base of one of the legs of the cot, so no matter how he positioned himself the one arm was stretched uncomfortably. 

Eventually he gave up, sliding off the bed to sit on the floor and leaned against the side of the cot. 

That at least allowed him to get to sleep, but he woke up with an awful crick in his neck. 

 

He didn't know what the worst part was. 

The food they left for him had been joined by two more meals. It was all a mockery. They were too far away to reach. The older food had been sitting and had begun to smell, and even though his stomach was empty he wanted to throw up from the stench. 

Then there was the dehydration. His throat hurt. Even the saliva had dried up in his mouth, leaving nothing to soothe the sandpaper in his mouth. Hunk wasn't a violent person by nature, but he was scared if what he might do for just a small sip of water to soothe his throat. 

But worse than that was probably the loneliness. The hopelessness. It was hard to keep track of time down here but it had to have been at least a few days. 

No one had come for him. The others had no way of knowing where he was. He had tried to shout to the guards who brought him the food. He had asked where he was, who was holding him. But it was as if they couldn't hear him at all. 

Despair hit him hard. He let his head think against the side of the bed. 

He might die here. In the darkness. Away from everything and everyone he ever loved. Taunted by food and water he couldn't reach, pathetically curled up in a spot he couldn't leave. 

The universe could be cruel. 

Chained to a bed. What a way to go.


End file.
